Sue was pretty cranky after our last eventful meet up (Skydiver Sue: Sue advances the game). I suggest you read that story if you want a flavour of how Sue can suddenly shape shift from her normal. purse lipped prudishness into an ultimate fantasy lover. I see in comments to that episode that some don't believe what I wrote, but, if anything, I've toned down the events of that evening.
She was, that night, simply a magnificently dirty whore, as filthy or even filthier as any I have ever been with. And folks, I've been with a lot!
At the time, I couldn't explain her sudden mood swings. She would freeze me out of her life for weeks, only to invite me back for a walk, bath and shag, in that order.
Only late in the piece, too late, I discovered she had been unreliable in taking her antidepressants, and each time she restarted herself on them, she went through a period of lowered inhibitions.
Sue obviously suffered deep remorse in the aftermath of that group sex event, as she avoided me like the plague for some time, more so than after our previous spa pool fun with just her ex-husband. But I hope I've made it plain in previous stories that Sue is always in control of our games; nothing happens that she hasn't ordered.
Here's how our sex life would play out.
If I attempt to set the scene, myself, I end up with a kicked ass. If I even hint how I want a scenario to go, I end up missing out. Only if she asks first, am I permitted some input. But even then, it never actually goes the way I've suggested. This is quite weird, to me, as I am used to taking charge of a wife or a lover or even, lovers. But she rules the roost in our "relationship"-- I guess it's what they mean by "pussy whipped."
Like the occasion of a Friday night "dress up" date (really a dress down date), after a long bath that included our standard, mutual oral. I would watch admiringly from the couch while she danced for me as usual in her array of skimpy costumes and finally, very sexily, stripped to the music. Then she sat in my lap, her perfect breasts temptingly close and said, softly, "You never take charge, do you?"
I ran my fingers across her erect nipples, the way she liked to be stroked, and said, "I try, but you always take over. No worries. I'm very happy with the way things pan out, anyway."
"Tonight," she ordered, "you take charge."
Fine by me, I thought, even if she was completely unaware of the irony inherent in her command.
So I took her hand and led her to the bedroom, laid her on the bed, and, on my knees, straddled her face, dragging my testicles over her pretty forehead, eyes, nose, cheeks, finishing by hovering my testes above her lips.
"Suck 'em," I ordered.
She obediently opened her mouth and gently sucked, one by one, each in turn.
Quickly, I fully hardened up, pre-cum dripping from my tip, which she noticed and, pulling my penis towards her mouth, eagerly lapped up.
Next, I told her to lick my anus and stick her tongue inside. Without demur, she did as told. But I knew she'd soon be losing interest in playing the slave, and sure enough, she did.
"My turn," she said impatiently, after I reversed position and began to nuzzle into her labia for a 69, and she squirmed out from under me, telling me to get on my back.
She then squatted and lowered her bald and beautiful pussy onto my waiting tongue.
That was the end of our 'my turn in charge' experimentation.
Now, Sue loves tongue. One of her favourite treats is relaxing in her bath, with a man between her legs, lapping away at her sweet spot.
As she told it, I was one of the few men she dated who enjoyed her long, languid and sexy baths. I mean, what's to complain about? She always returned the favour with great head and time in her tight little vagina.
Just to remind you, Sue is in her late fifties, an exercise addict, five feet nothing, 105 lbs, perfect breasts that are a generous size for her tiny fame, with not a hint of sag. Her butt is firm and round. I do so enjoy taking long walks with Sue on narrow trails, trekking single file behind her swaying hips, the perfection of her butt accentuated by the gym tights she always wore for these outings. Oh, as a bonus, she keeps her pussy perfectly bald.
I'm nearly five foot 11, 190lbs, in good shape. And, if you must know, approaching 7 inches where it counts and fat, very fat; anal sex is a rare treat, for that reason, sadly.
I say sadly because Sue's lovely little ass is way too tight for my penis--we tried it once, in her bath, lots of lube, she on top and slowly, carefully taking it all the way in, then bouncing on me until she suddenly collapsed onto my chest, in so much pain she was crying She was sore for the next fortnight and told me, firmly, in her take no prisoners tone, never again. Oh well.
So some three months went by after 'that' meet (Skydiver Sue: Sue advances the game) involving her ex-husband before we even met for coffee. Of course, I had alternatives. I had to. She had given up asking about them. And trusted me be to be careful. With her, sex came well spaced, and I just had to adapt.
But our life gradually returned to her kind of normal and she never mentioned that night with her ex-husband, ex-lover and me. Of course, a 'normal' date with Sue was to get together for a long walk around her local streets, or a local trail, followed by an almost equally long bath. And the timing was always erratic; she gave so little notice, always by text message, that I sometimes found my self bouncing out of one bed and into hers on the same day.
Folks, it's a tough life, isn't it?
Anyway, she texted this day to invite me for a Friday date night at her home. "Bring cider," she ordered, "and beer or wine for yourself. You can watch the game and I'll entertain you at half time. See you at 7."
You can see there is no room for debate, can you not?
At the due time, I rocked up to her slightly ajar front door, her signal to walk right in. I pushed it open, pleased she had put the dogs out of the way, and entered. She was sitting at the dining table, busily tapping away on her laptop, with one of her co-workers, a guy named Fred, also at the table. I knew Fred from a chance meeting walking with Sue at the local beach and also knew she was one of the few she worked with that she liked.
"We're just finishing up," she said to me, without any kind of greeting. "This had to be done tonight. Get a drink, and get me a cider. Fred's OK, he doesn't drink. Watch TV and don't disturb us."
Yes, Miss, I thought to myself, and after saying hello to Fred, did as she bid.
What else could I do?
What would you do?
Fred is Asian, born locally, early 30s, normal height for his ethnicity, a little bit tubby and a really nice guy. Sue generally bordered on racism when talking about the many foreign born employees at her ICT work but never said a bad word about Fred.
The game was close to starting when she announced they had finished and told Fred he had done really well and that he was welcome to stay and watch the game. Fred accepted and sat with me on the couch while Sue disappeared down the hallway and I could hear her bath running. I was bitterly disappointed, figuring there'd be no halftime entertainment, then, and I hoped something would happen later, after the game, when Fred had gone.
The game had kicked off when Sue called out for a cider. I fetched it and handed it to her. Reclining in splendid nakedness in the shallow water, she whispered, "The next one, send Fred down with it."
Oh boy, was I surprised! I knew better than to query her commands, but once again, I was a little stunned at this turn of events. She was Miss Prim and Proper to her work colleagues, and kept her distance.
About 10 mins later, she called for another one. I handed it to Fred and asked him to take it to her. He looked shocked, and I said, "It's OK, just knock and say it's you."
He did. I heard the knock. I heard him say, "It's me, Fred." And I heard her lilting, teasing reply:
"Come on in."
There was silence for some minutes. Sue told me later she had pretended to have a thought about work and kept him standing there chatting while he took in her naked display.
While talking to him, she said, she "absent-mindedly" parted her thighs a little and stroked her clitoris as it peeked out from between her labia, and she saw his eyes flicking from her vagina to her breasts and back again, poor bugger.
He reappeared from the bathroom about 5 mins later, flushed, and took a big drink of water. I never said a word. It was nearing half time and we listened as Sue finished her bath and went to her bedroom.
Halftime arrived and I turned the sound down and chatted to Fred about the game, acting as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. A few minutes later, Sue's stereo turned on, tuned to one of her music tracks, one with a catchy beat. Fred looked at me and I said, "Spotify, from her phone."
Fred looked puzzled; my penis hardened in anticipation of what was sure to happen next.
Sure enough, she danced her way through the door, a wide, seductive smile on her dial, dressed in one of my favourites, her maid outfit. Black with frilly edging, so low cut her breasts were close to spilling out and so short it barely covered her crotch.
She swayed and twirled in front of us, bowing to us so low so her perfect breasts actually tipped out, at which she immediately turned her back to us and flicked her skirt to show that she was wearing only the skimpiest of black thongs.
Not bothering to tuck her breasts back in to her outfit, she turned to face us and danced for some time, teasing us by frequently flicking her skirt up and pulling her thong tight, popping her labia into view. I must have looked a little shocked because she smiled coyly at me, shrugged, and said, "Well, he's already seen it all already."
Now I understood her strategy. I wondered why Fred. I wondered why have me there at all. I stopped wondering and settled in to enjoy the ride.
She danced and swayed and teased for a couple of tracks, but allowed no touching, then blew us a kiss and returned to the doorway. As she disappeared, she called out, "Fred! Bring me a cider!"
He immediately, eagerly, complied -- well trained from work, I thought -- and was gone for a good five minutes, maybe more, reappearing red faced, with an armful of towels.
"She said for us to undress and wait for her."
Obediently, we undressed, spread a couple of towels on the couch, sat and awaited her next move, both with swelling cocks. I had a fair idea what was to come, but this was all new for Fred, who looked gleefully nervous.
The stereo was turned up a notch from afar, and Sue came dancing back through the door. This time she was wearing only the sexy, black see through house coat, as she called it, that I had purchased for her, unbuttoned down the front, no bra and the same thong. Like the maid outfit, the garment went to just below her pubis mons.
She was displaying herself fully, deliberately, to her workmate and to me.
Both our "willies," as she like to call penises, were standing to attention as she again danced sexily for the two of us. The lingerie garment was hiding nothing and she regularly pulled her thong tight to again display her labia.
This time, she would stand and pull the thong aside and insert her middle finger, wetting it, flicking her clitoris so her glans swelled and popped out from beneath its hood.
Fred was shifting impatiently in his seat. He'll need to learn patience, I thought.
When the track ended, she slowly removed first, the thong, facing away from us, sliding it down her thighs and legs, kicking it away.
Then she removed the housecoat, and as the next track started, she shimmied into my lap, naked, facing away.
Sue invited Fred to come close and watch the fun. She reached behind her butt and closed my legs, glided backwards, sat in my lap and leaned back against my chest, whispering, "Play with my breasts."
I needed no encouragement, taking a risk and nuzzling into her neck with soft kisses as I did so. This caused her to arch her back and a little moan exited her lips. I allowed my hands to roam freely over her breasts and flat tummy, stopping short of going lower. That would risk her wrath.
When she was bored with that, Sue stood up, still facing away from me, her legs together. She stood in front of my face and bent at her waist, legs locked straight. With astounding flexibility for a lady nearing 60, she placed her palms flat on the carpet. You can imagine the sight in front of my eyes: her perfectly hairless labia was only inches from my nose and eager tongue. I moved to reach out to touch but she sensed what I was doing, and said, "No touching till I say so!"
